


in the sunrise glow we will whisper low

by impertinency



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Half-Sibling Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impertinency/pseuds/impertinency
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon has tried to distance himself from Robb only to be pulled back in, unable to resist the heady sensation of Robb's hands on his skin, the taste of his kiss, the sound of his sated sighs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the sunrise glow we will whisper low

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://asoiafkinkmeme.livejournal.com/10986.html?thread=7157738#t7157738) for asoiafkinkmeme. Title from "The Passionate Freudian to His Love" by Dorothy Parker.

Sometimes, when the night is so cold that the wind seems to seep through the grey stones of the castle and into his very bones, Jon slinks through the corridors and into Robb’s bedchambers. The door to Robb’s chambers are always unlatched, an open invitation that Jon tries not to think about. Jon leaves his chamber doors unlatched for the same reason. It’s habit, he supposes, from the days when they shared a bed as boys, huddled together under blankets and furs, arguing about who would trek across the cold stone floor to poke at the crumbling logs in the fire.

The nights they spend together now are far less innocent. More than one night has been lost to wandering hands and desperate kisses, stifled moans and muffled sighs. Lost to the frenzied, almost reckless exploration of each other’s bodies, pushing each other to see who breaks first, performing acts they’ve only heard talk of through bawdy songs or whispers from the townsfolk. It’s always fast and rough and always only when the sun has set. It’s as if the night gives them an excuse to come together, to hide what they’re not allowed to have during the day.

They have yet to be caught, but Jon knows that there will soon come a time when neither of them will have the luxury of spending the night together and when the excuse of sharing a bed to ward off the cold won’t be enough. He’s known for awhile that they’ll each go their separate ways, when Jon will choose honor and Robb will choose duty, and that alone will separate them.

It’s these thoughts that plague him during the night long after Robb has fallen asleep. Jon spends too many hours during the day worrying, but the night seems to magnify and unearth his fears and desires in equal measures. He envies Robb’s ability to sleep through the night as if he hasn’t a care in the world. He wonders, sometimes, if Robb ever lies awake worrying about their future. If he ever drifts off to sleep, dread and shame heavy in the pit of his stomach.

Jon has wrestled with himself over their relationship. There’s a small part of him that wants nothing more than to be able to kiss Robb out in the open without repercussion. But there are other times when he wishes he could just walk away because he knows that this is wrong, that he shouldn’t feel so much love for his brother. He’s tried to distance himself from Robb only to be pulled back in, unable to resist the heady sensation of Robb’s hands on his skin, the taste of his kiss, the sound of his sated sighs.

These are the memories that follow him into an uneasy sleep, that come to him on the rare morning when he wakes with Robb curled around him.

Today is one of those mornings.

It’s early, that silent sliver of time before the sun has risen too high in the sky and before anyone else in the castle has stirred. Last night’s fire has long since died down, but his and Robb’s shared body heat is enough to ward off the chill of the morning breeze. Their legs are tangled together and one of Robb’s arms is wrapped around Jon’s waist, clutching him tight even in sleep. There’s barely any space between them, and Jon feels each exhale Robb makes, his breath tickling the bare skin of Jon’s shoulder.

Jon shifts, maneuvering himself away from Robb in order to stretch out the kinks in his back. Robb stirs besides him, peering at him with sleepy eyes, his sleep mussed auburn curls falling onto his forehead.

“Time is it?” he asks, voice scratchy with sleep.

“Early,” Jon replies, his own voice equally hoarse.

Robb mutters something entirely unintelligible, making Jon’s quirk his lips in amusement. There’s a smattering of light peering through the shutters on the window, and it softens then lines and angles of Robb’s face, making him look young and innocent and indescribably beautiful. It’s different, being here this early in the morning, seeing how Robb looks spread across the bed, his face illuminated by sunlight instead of candlelight. Robb is warm and sleepy, more tactile than usual as he reaches across the space between them to lazily stroke the skin on Jon’s hip.

“Too early to be awake,” Robb says, though half the words are swallowed in a yawn.

There’s an emotion stirring in Jon’s chest that he can’t quite name, and though he isn’t often prone to outbursts of sentiment, he leans over and cups Robb’s cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of Robb’s mouth. He wants to map every line and crease in Robb’s skin, to commit the landscape of his body to memory to keep him warm in all the days to come.

Robb stares up at him, the last vestiges of sleep gone from his face as he watches Jon curiously. He’s silent as Jon moves his hand to trail up Robb’s jaw, his knuckles brushing over Robb’s cheek with all the tenderness and affection he can’t put into words. He’s tried countless times, but each time, the words become lodged in his throat. Jon hopes that Robb knows, hopes that each touch and kiss tells the story of Jon’s love better than his words ever could.

He pours his emotions into a kiss that’s soft and slow and sweet - everything their nights together never are. Robb sighs into the kiss, one hand coming up to curl around Jon’s neck to pull him closer. Jon goes willingly, biting back his own sigh as he presses himself flush against Robb. Robb murmurs his name, sliding his hand up into Jon’s curls, as he moves to press open-mouthed kisses against Jon’s jaw.

“You’re going to leave a mark,” Jon says.

“Don’t care,” Robb says. “I want to leave one.”

He alternates between biting and licking the skin on Jon’s neck, and Jon knows that there will be more than one mark he’ll have to try and cover. No matter how many times Jon reprimands him, Robb seems to delight in marking Jon. Jon secretly loves it, and he’s spent an embarrassing amount of time after each of their encounters examining those same marks in the mirror. Sometimes, he’s a little ashamed of the way each one makes him feel wanted and desired.

Just thinking about it makes him moan, and he recaptures Robb’s lips in a fierce kiss. Robb grins into the kiss as if he knows what Jon’s thinking about. And maybe he does. Robb has always been too good at reading him. It makes Jon feel warm and happy, and he presses a kiss against Robb’s forehead, then on the curve of his jaw, moving down to press another on his neck, then his collarbone.

Jon kisses a path down Robb’s sweat-slicked skin, enjoying the way Robb squirms beneath him. When he reaches Robb’s hips, he nips at the skin there. There’s a fading bruise on one hip – a memento of a more frantic night together – and Jon presses his lips against it lightly. It makes Robb shudder and Jon smiles against his skin before moving to nudge Robb’s legs apart. He places a kiss on the inside of each thigh, and when he looks up, Robb is staring down at him with dark eyes, his expression torn between lust and affection and impatience.

That look is enough to undo Jon, but the long, strangled moan Robb makes the moment Jon wraps his lips around the head of Robb’s cock is even better. He sucks him slowly, lazily, flicking his tongue along Robb’s length. When he laves at the underside of Robb’s cock, Robb threads his fingers through Jon’s hair, pulling at his curls.

“Stop teasing,” Robb says, panting.

Jon dutifully applies more pressure, quickening his pace just a little. Robb whines, stuttering out Jon’s name, and that’s the only warning Jon gets before Robb’s spilling into his mouth. He swallows with a slight grimace – still not entirely used to the taste – and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

He crawls back up the bed to kiss Robb, feeling a ridiculous amount of pleasure at the fact that _he’s_ the one who makes Robb fall apart. That it’s _his_ name that Robb moans when he comes.

“You’re amazing,” Robb says. He strokes one hand along the small of Jon’s back, looking at him with such affection that it makes Jon flush. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, it’s only fair. You’ve done it to me enough times,” he says, flushing as he thinks of all the times Robb has gone down on him. Robb seems to enjoy surprising Jon, in wanting to pleasure him at the most unexpected moments – not that Jon minds.

Robb graces him with a seductive smirk and says, “About time to rectify that, don’t you think?” 

Before Jon can reply, Robb wraps his legs around Jon and flips them over so that he’s straddling Jon. He grins down at Jon, clearly pleased with having got the better of him.

“I didn’t think Starks were capable of such sneaky moves,” Jon says with a laugh.

“I’m always one step ahead of you, Snow,” Robb says, placing one hand on Jon’s chest to push him back against the bed.

He aligns his hips with Jon’s and rocks against him, and Jon’s reply dies on his lips as he gasps at the feeling. His eyes flutter shut and he flops back against the pillows and furs, arching up into Robb desperately.

“So impatient,” Robb murmurs, raking one hand across Jon’s chest. He wraps his other hand around Jon’s cock, his touch light as he strokes him. The angle is awkward, but Jon is still surprised when Robb moves away for a second. He opens his eyes to protest, but his breath catches when he sees Robb leaning across the bed, grabbing the jar of seed oil they had stolen from the kitchen months ago.

Robb twists around to look at him, a flicker of hesitation in his expression that soon gives way to a shy smile. They’ve only done this a couple of times and it was always late at night, under the cover of darkness when both of them could ignore the intimacy of the act.

They can’t ignore it now, not when Robb coats his hand liberally with the oil and moves back to kneel by Jon. His hand is slick where it’s curled around Jon’s length, his pace teasingly slow. With his free hand, he lifts Jon’s chin, brushing their lips together. Without breaking the kiss, he twines their hands together, covering Jon’s fingers with the oil. After a long dirty kiss that leaves Jon breathless, Robb pushes away with a sly grin, grabs Jon’s hand, and guides his fingers between his legs.

“I want you inside me,” Robb murmurs against his lips. “That okay?”

Jon whines, low and deep and so needy that it surprises even him. It makes Robb laugh, and he kisses the corner of Jon’s mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, his thumb moving in a sticky circle on the inside of Jon’s wrist.

It’s an unspoken encouragement, and Jon raises himself up on his forearms for better leverage. He presses his fingers against Robb, slipping one and then another inside him, careful not to hurt him. Robb whimpers, grabbing onto Jon’s shoulder to steady himself, his fingernails leaving deep indents in Jon’s skin. Jon knows it must burn and he leans forward to kiss Robb’s collarbone soothingly.

“Just a little bit more,” he says after awhile, his voice barely a whisper. He curls his fingers inside Robb, working him open a little bit more. Robb rocks down onto Jon’s fingers, and Jon bites down on his lower lip when Robb lets out a low whine.

“You ready?” Jon asks.

Robb nods, his breath hitching when Jon gently removes his fingers. Jon brushes a kiss against Robb’s lips as he pulls away, moving his hands to Robb’s hips. Jon sits back on the bed, pulling Robb with him, watching with half-lidded eyes as Robb lowers himself down onto Jon’s cock. It’s tight and perfect and once he settles, Jon’s fingers tighten on Robb’s hips hard enough to leave bruises. Robb’s legs are wrapped around Jon, the heels of his feet digging into Jon’s back. 

Jon rolls his hips experimentally, and it’s awkward and uncoordinated at first, but they soon figure out a pace that works for both of them. Jon has one arm slung around Robb’s lower back to keep him in place, and he keeps his eyes on Robb, greedily drinking in every flicker of pleasure that passes across Robb’s face when Jon thrusts up into him. 

They have less room to move than if they were lying down, but they’re so close that it feels like they’ve melted together. Jon doesn’t think there’s a single spot where they’re not touching. Robb rests his forehead against Jon’s, his eyes fluttering shut, whispering Jon’s name as he moves in tandem with each of Jon’s thrusts. He rakes his fingers nails across Jon’s back, scratching in a way that makes Jon jerk in surprise, which has the unintended effect of making Robb release a guttural, utterly wanton moan. 

Jon lets out a huff of surprised laughter as he buries his face in Robb’s shoulder. His licks at the beads of sweat there, nipping at the skin with every intention of leaving a mark. Robb squirms against him, baring his neck, and Jon grins against his skin. Jon can feel each movement Robb makes much more intensely than any other position they’re tried. 

There’s something undeniably more intimate about this position, and it makes Jon’s entire body ache with longing and love and a fervent need to consume every last bit of Robb. There are a dozen emotions warring inside him at the moment, and Jon wishes he could find the words to describe just how he feels, but as usual, he comes up short. Not for the first time, he wonders how he’s able to feel so much but is yet still so incapable of voicing his feelings.

“Robb,” he starts, “I…”

He hesitates, torn between embarrassment and anxiety. Robb fumbles for his hand, linking them together, squeezing lightly. 

“It’s okay,” Robb says, his voice thick with affection. “I know.”

He pulls back far enough to reach out and ghost a hand against Jon’s cheek, brushing away the curls that are falling into his eyes. His touch is as gentle and tender as the expression on his face. Robb has always worn his heart on his sleeve, but the amount of love present on his face makes Jon flush. He’s not often graced with such looks, and it fills him with a sort of giddy wonder.

His arm tightens around Robb, dragging him in closer as he whispers his name over and over again. He leaves a trail of kisses over every part of Robb’s skin he can reach: his shoulder and his collarbone, his neck and his jaw, the corner of his mouth and the bridge of his nose. Jon wants to mold himself to Robb so they can never be separated, so that he’ll be with him always, just like this, two halves of the same coin.

Robb presses a kiss to the side of Jon’s face, nosing at his curls, his breath coming in heavy, harsh pants. Robb’s cock is hard between them, and Jon shakily wraps his hand around it. The position is even more awkward than before, but it doesn’t matter for as soon as he touches him, Robb is coming against him, spilling onto his stomach and Jon’s fingers, Jon’s name on his lips.

Robb clutches at Jon clumsily as he comes, whimpering his name with such fierce need that it makes Jon’s body tighten with pleasure, and he releases with a shudder that wracks his entire body. The only thing he’s truly conscious of is Robb’s arms wrapped securely around him, the kisses against Jon’s shoulder, the endearments he whispers in Jon’s ear. 

They stay like that for awhile, sharing gentle kisses as the morning sun casts a glow about the bedroom. Jon knows it’s only a matter of minutes before people start moving about the castle. He’s loath to move, to end this morning, and there is nothing he wants more than to spend the day in bed with Robb, curled underneath the furs and ignoring the world outside the bedroom doors.

But the stickiness is starting to become uncomfortable, so he brushes a hand against Robb’s legs, an unspoken suggestion. Robb reluctantly moves, and they both wince when Jon slides out of him. Robb reclines back onto the bed, tugging Jon with him so that he can sprawl on top of him, nuzzling his face into the curve of Jon’s neck. He drapes one arm across Jon’s waist, lightly trailing his fingers along the skin at Jon’s hip.

“Every morning should be like this,” Robb murmurs. His voice is content and sleepy, and Jon’s pretty certain that Robb’s about to fall asleep again.

Jon idly wonders whether he should slip back to his own room before they’re discovered, but as if he knows what Jon’s thinking, Robb tightens his arm around Jon’s waist. 

“Stop brooding and go to back to sleep, Jon,” he murmurs, placing a lazy kiss on the underside of Jon’s jaw.

Jon’s never been able to deny Robb anything, so he settles back against the bed, warm and happy with Robb cuddled up against him.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Robb murmurs. He yawns and shifts, draping himself more fully over Jon, as if he’s trying to become part of him. “Gonna stay like this forever.”

And despite the castle beginning to stir and the worry still present deep in his gut, Jon can’t help but agree.


End file.
